


Baker's Dozen

by DarthAbby



Series: Washed Clean 'Verse [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Minor Character Death, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slice of Life, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-16
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-06-02 12:11:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6565594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarthAbby/pseuds/DarthAbby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Short scenes over the course of twelve years, featuring revelations, plenty of emotions, some friends, and more then enough baked goods for everyone.</p><p>Obikin prequel to 'Washed Clean'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter takes place not long after the events in the previous oneshot, [Love is a Beast](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6129004).

Obi-Wan had thought the funeral would be the worst part; the quiet, awkward condolences, the tentative questions, the forced hugs of people he had no memory of meeting beforehand.

He was crushed to discover that he was wrong. The worst part wasn’t the funeral – the worst part was the aftermath. Everyone else got to go home and move on, but there was still so much for him to do.

You never realize how much is involved in death until you’re faced with it. Work, time, money – outrageous amounts of all of it. Bills, from the hospital, the funeral home, the mortician, the insurance company, and endless reams of paperwork to fill out. The stack of envelopes on the kitchen table made his stomach turn just to look at them. The government didn’t care about grief.

He bypassed the table, but didn’t make it far before he slumped against the wall. His hands came up and tugged his tie loose as his knees slowly buckled and his back slid down the wall, jacket bunching up uncomfortably behind him. He stared up blankly at the join where the opposite wall met the ceiling, waiting for the tears to come.

They didn’t appear, however, and somewhere in his mind, Obi-Wan laughed bitterly. He had never truly believed one could cry themselves dry before, but that was the only explanation he could think of for why he wasn’t sobbing at the moment. His chest ached hollowly and his cheeks itched with the dried memories of past tear tracks.

Time passed – he wasn’t sure how long, exactly, but certainly a significant period – and he remained where he was, sitting on the floor, watching dust motes float in the light streaming in through the blinds. When the knock came on the door, he almost thought it was his imagination.

But it came again, and he rose stiffly to his feet to answer it.

The person on the other side was vaguely familiar – bright blue eyes, sun-bleached blonde hair, shifting awkwardly but looking determined. “Hi.”

Obi-Wan blinked. “Hello.”

They blinked back, and offered a rueful smile. “You don’t recognize me at all, do you? That’s alright, I s’ppose I look a lot different now.” They stuck out a hand. “I’m Ani Skywalker.”

“Oh – oh!” Obi-Wan quickly shook Ani’s hand. “Sorry, yes, hello. It’s been a while.” Though only about four years younger than him, he had never spent much time with Ani growing up – the Skywalkers had moved in downstairs just when Obi-Wan was starting high school, and his free time had been drastically reduced.

“Ages,” Ani nodded. “Uh, d’you mind if I come in? Just for a minute. My mom sent me up with these, felt bad that we couldn’t make it to the service…”

“Right, yes, of course, come on in,” he said, stepping aside as he belatedly noticed the plate of cookies in Ani’s other hand. “Ah, how is your mother?”

“Fine,” Ani answered airily, walking in and heading straight for the table Obi-Wan had been doing his best to avoid, setting down the plate carefully. “Um, so, we weren’t sure what you liked, so these ones are chocolate chip, these are lemon, these are just plain sugar, and I told Mom that no one likes oatmeal raisin, but she made some anyways.” Three of each cookie, four types – an even dozen.

“I’m not picky,” Obi-Wan reassured automatically. “And I happen to quite like oatmeal raisin.”

Ani goggled at him. “ _Really_?”

He was surprised to find a smile on his face, small as it was. “Yes.”

Ani stared at him for another long moment. “You’re weird, you know that?”

“So I’ve heard,” he said lightly, walking over to the cupboard and pulling out two glasses. “Would you like a glass of milk?”

“Uh… what?”

“Milk,” he said, gesturing towards the fridge with one glass. “To go with the cookies. I’m not going to be able to eat a dozen by myself before they get stale, so I thought you might like to have a few.”

“Oh. Um. Yeah, sure.”

“Unless you need to get back home?”

“No,” Ani quickly said, “I don’t need to be back until later.”

Obi-Wan nodded, pouring the milk and walking over to the table. He sat down across from Ani, who quickly took the other chair, and handed over one of the glasses before taking a cookie.

“These are very good,” he said after a few quiet moments of chewing. “Thank you.”

“Oh! Uh, thank you. And, you’re welcome?” Ani fumbled the lemon cookie, almost sending it to the floor, but catching it at the last moment.

They sat quietly for a long minute, enjoying their treats. Obi-Wan was doing his best to avoid looking at the stack of envelopes.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t make it to the service,” Ani finally spoke again.

“It’s okay,” he replied automatically.

“No, it’s not,” Ani sighed. “My mom couldn’t get off work in time, and I don’t have my driver’s license yet. Which is dumb, because I’m turning 20 next week and I still can’t freaking drive.” A chocolate chip cookie crumbled under angry fingers. “Mom just doesn’t have time to teach me. It’s frustrating, but I can’t ask her to drop everything for me.”

Obi-Wan nodded sympathetically, latching onto Ani’s problems in place of his own. “It can be hard having a single parent.” He certainly knew that well enough, though he wouldn’t have traded Qui-Gon for anything or anyone. The opposite, however… he would give the world to have his father-figure back. It sadly didn’t work like that, though.

An idea suddenly struck him. “I could teach you.”

“What?”

“To drive. I could teach you how to drive,” he repeated, the concept becoming clearer in his mind. “I’ve got the time, and a vehicle that can handle a few more bumps.” The eleven year old Toyota had come to him third-hand, and while it made some interesting noises on occasion, it still ran well enough while he saved up for the motorcycle he really wanted.

“You’d do that?” Ani’s eyes lit up hopefully. “I don’t want to intrude or anything…”

“You wouldn’t be,” Obi-Wan assured. “I need something to do besides homework.” His friends were well-meaning, but going out and getting drunk or sitting around and watching movies he wasn’t interested in were hardly fun activities at the moment.

A wide grin split Ani’s face. “Thank you! Thank you so much, oh my gosh, I know the basics but I still need some actual practice before going in for the test and –”

As Ani babbled on excitedly, Obi-Wan felt the tension he hadn’t noticed previously drop from his shoulders. It would be good to spend time with Ani, doing something simple like a few driving lessons with someone who wouldn’t treat him like glass.

‘ _This,’_ he thought, _‘Is going to be… fun.’_


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait - nasty case of writer's block with this one, combined with being super busy!
> 
> Bonus points to whoever knows what movie they're watching lmao

They were about halfway through the movie when Obi-Wan stood up and walked away without a word, surprising Ani.

“Hey – !” Fumbling to catch the popcorn bowl before the remainder spilled. “What’s wrong? You bored?”

“No,” Obi-Wan half-called, half-sighed as he searched through the cupboard with a frown. “I just… I need something sweet.”

Ani’s eyes rolled before turning back to the TV. It was a pretty good story – orphan living with his aunt and uncle discovers a mystical power and related object and runs away with the local hermit to save a beautiful woman – but the special effects were a bit cheesy and the dialogue was kind of heavy-handed at times.

It had been about a year since Obi-Wan had first extended the offer of driving lessons, and since then the two had gotten close. When both were done with their classes, they would meet up in the Skywalker apartment for a while. Obi-Wan was working hard at his master’s degree, while Ani had a bachelor’s to reach for. They went through their easier assignments at the kitchen table, chatting with each other and Shmi when she was off work. It was, Obi-Wan had commented one time, like they were back in grade school or something. Shmi had laughed and offered to cut the crust off his sandwich.

“Or maybe slice it into a pretty flower?” she had teased. “Ani used to ask for that one all the time.”

“ _Moooom_ ,” Ani groaned. “I was like, four.”

“It was adorable!” Shmi insisted. “You’d come in from playing, covered in mud with rocks in your pocket and leaves in your hair and ask for ‘ _a pretty flower sammich, Mommy!_ ’.” She smiled as Ani blushed. “You were utterly convinced that I put actual flowers on it, and that’s why it tasted so good.”

“What was actually on it?” Obi-Wan asked curiously, cheerfully ignoring the agonized looks Ani was giving him.

“Peanut butter,” Shmi laughed. “Sometimes with jelly, sometimes with bananas, sometimes just plain.”

Even Ani had to laugh a little at that. Oh, the innocence of childhood…

“What are you smiling about?” Obi-Wan asked, coming back to the couch with a plate of something. “I highly doubt it’s the movie.”

“What? Oh,” Ani blinked, coming back to the present moment. “Nothing.”

Obi-Wan shook his head, but accepted it. He held out the plate. “Want one?”

Ani looked at the contents in confusion. In the dim light, it looked an awful lot like Obi-Wan had prepared a snack of frosted cardboard squares. “Uh…”

“Graham crackers,” he explained patiently. “With vanilla frosting.”

Oh. Well, that was quite alright, then. Ani took one without further ado.

“Mm, this is a lot better than the frosting Mom buys for cake.”

“Homemade,” Obi-Wan explained, munching on his own treat. “Powdered sugar, milk, butter, and a little bit of vanilla extract. Less than a minute of work.”

Ani nodded, too busy eating to reply.

Shmi was working late that night, which is why Obi-Wan had invited Ani over for dinner and “whatever the hell is on TV”, which had turned out to be the mediocre movie.

Ani eyed the plate. There were only a few left…

“There’s more in the kitchen,” Obi-Wan said, catching the look. “I made a dozen, the plate just couldn’t hold them all.”

_Excellent_. Another was quickly snatched up and devoured while Obi-Wan chuckled at the exuberance.

Ani settled back comfortably into the couch and squinted at the screen. “Did the dragon just grow up in three seconds?”

“I think it was closer to five, but yes.”

“This movie sucks.”

“I heard the books were okay, though.”

* * *

The movie was almost over.

Obi-Wan was close to drifting off, eyes half closed and unresponsive at the overly dramatic finale.

Ani leaned against him, feeling warm and content and full of sweet, sugary goodness. Not quite ready for sleep, not yet, but happy to not move for a while.

The older man seemed to have that effect. Ani never felt more comfortable around another person, except maybe Shmi, but even then, Obi-Wan just seemed to exude a comforting air. Sometimes, Ani even wondered if maybe…

No. Don’t go down that road. Don’t mess up a good thing. If there was one thing Ani had learned from Shmi (which that, in and of itself, was a lie – the woman was a fount of knowledge), it was that the quickest way to ruin any sort of platonic relationship, be it friendly, professional, or otherwise, was to try and make it romantic. Besides, Ani didn’t even know how he’d react to the… _issue_.

It was the only thing Ani hadn’t talked to anyone about yet, not even Shmi. There just didn’t seem to be a good way to bring it up, no way to talk about it without making everything terribly awkward at the best, or horrifying at the worst. It was also a fairly recent development, in the grand scheme of things. Ani had only really begun thinking about it a year and a half ago, though it was becoming more concrete every day.

Ani just… didn’t feel right. There was something saying “ _no”_ very quietly all day, and it grumbled louder whenever Ani was referred to in a feminine way – the barista at the coffee shop saying “what can I get you today, miss?”, the child that stammered out “I’m sorry, lady!” after bumping into Ani, the constant “ _she her she her she hershehershehersheher_ ” all day every day from everyone, and the worst, the moment when Obi-Wan grinned at the driving instructor who told said Ani had done an exemplary job in the test, and he said “I told her that she had nothing to worry about” and –

“Ani?”

An instinctive, startled jolt. “Huh?”

Obi-Wan was blinking blearily as he looked over. “You okay? You look… not good.”

“I’m,” Ani swallowed, looking for words, feeling trapped for the first time by Obi-Wan’s encompassing presence. “I’m, I just – I need to go.”

Bolting for the door before Obi-Wan could form any sort of answer, Ani almost felt sorry, but the panic was louder.

* * *

Obi-Wan was very confused. Ani usually dragged her feet on leaving his apartment, but she had bolted out the door in two seconds flat for no apparent reason. He picked up his phone after a moment of befuddled staring.

**TO: Ani Skywalker, 9:07 PM _  
_** _Are you sick? Do you need me to bring you anything?_

The reply was long in coming. He resisted the urge to pace while waiting.

**TO: Obiiii, 9:11 PM**   
_im finw_

**TO: Ani Skywalker, 9:11 PM  
** _No, you’re not. I want to help. Please._

**TO: Obiiii, 9:13 PM  
** _u cant_

**TO: Ani Skywalker, 9:13 PM  
** _Why not?_

**TO: Obiiii, 9:14 PM  
** _dont thinj any1 can_

**TO: Ani Skywalker, 9:14 PM  
** _Ani, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?_

**TO: Obiiii, 9:16 PM  
** _sotp_

**TO: Ani Skywalker, 9:16 PM  
** _Stop? Stop what?_

**TO: Ani Skywalker, 9:17 PM  
** _Ani?_

**TO: Ani Skywalker, 9:19 PM  
** _Ani, please._

**TO: Ani Skywalker, 9:20 PM  
** _Ani just tell me you’re okay_

**TO: Ani Skywalker, 9:22 PM  
** _Answer me please I’m getting worried_

**TO: Ani Skywalker, 9:23 PM  
** _If you don’t answer me within the next minute I’m coming to check on you_

**TO: Ani Skywalker, 9:24 PM  
** _Please don’t do anything stupid_

* * *

Obi-Wan took the stairs three at a time, stumbling on the last one and nearly running headlong into the wall. He brushed off the encounter and ran down the hall to the last door on the left, heart in his throat and the spare key Shmi had given him months ago biting into the palm of his hand. _Please, please, please, please…_

He knew Ani suffered from occasional bouts of depression – she had never told him outright, but he knew the signs well enough from his own experience. She had never seemed to be downright suicidal, though, and hadn’t even seemed too down the past few weeks. Still, he feared the worst as he fumbled with the lock.

“Ani?”

There was no response from the dim apartment and Obi-Wan’s heartrate increased even more. “Ani, where are you?”

There was a mumbled response, too quiet to make out if it had even been words at all or just distressed noises, but it was enough.

Obi-Wan rushed forward and found Ani curled up on the floor on the opposite side of the couch, knees to chest and hands holding ankles. “Ani…” he sighed, kneeling a few feet away. “Thank God. Don’t scare me like that.”

“S’rry.” The word was difficult to make out – Ani had tucked her face into the small gap between her kneecaps and her collarbone.

“It’s okay,” Obi-Wan said, settling more comfortably now that it was clear no one was in immediate danger. “Do you want to talk?”

“…no.”

He nodded silently, leaning his back against the couch and carefully placing one hand on Ani’s knee, just enough to share some warmth and make his presence known.

It felt like hours before she finally stirred.

"I'm so tired."

The whisper was nearly lost in the dark, but the sheer exhaustion in the tone gripped at Obi-Wan's heart.

"Of what?"

"Everything. School and work and people and...  _everything_."

"Is it too much on your plate?"

"No," she sighed, shifted slightly to be closer to the warmth of his body. "Just too much... wrongness."

"Wrongness?"

"They all..." A frustrated noise, a slight shiver. "They don't..."

"Take your time."

A few deep breaths in the dark. Perhaps it was that cover that gave her the confidence she needed to continue.

"I'm not a girl."

"Okay."

That stopped Ani dead. Simple acceptance; no more, no less. Of all the things that might have happened, this wasn't one of the imagined scenarios.

"What do you want me to call you?" Obi-Wan asked.

"I don't - I haven't - " A shuddering breath. "I didn't think I'd get this far. I don't know what to do now."

"I'm here to help," Obi-Wan promised softly. "What do you want to change first?"

"'m not a girl."

"Okay," he agreed again, easily as anything. "Different pronouns, then? Masculine or neutral?"

Ani thought about it. "M-masculine. I think."

"Masculine it is," Obi-Wan nodded. "And you can change that any time you'd like."

Ani offered a tentative smile, barely visible in the dark. He felt better -  _he_ felt better just with the simple act of deciding on pronouns. The idea that had been stewing and festering in the back of  _his_ mind for so long, cautiously examined from a distance but never close enough to know what the idea truly was, suddenly was at the forefront of everything. And it was... fine. Eveything was okay. Obi-Wan was still here, sitting next to  _him_ and being nothing but accepting. 

"Thank you," he whispered, leaning in properly against Obi-Wan's side.

"Anytime." The older man rested his cheek against the top of Ani's head. There would be a lot to deal with in the future - so much that he wasn't sure where to begin - but for now, they were both happy to just sit in the dark and enjoy each other's silent company.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In memory of Josie

Grief is the heaviest thing in the world.

It drags at you like nothing else, making a t-shirt weigh 20 pounds without a second thought. Moving at all is a task; just breathing is a chore. The absence presses in more closely than the presence ever could have.

Missing someone is… _exhausting_. The sheer act of existing without them drains energy like nothing else.

Obi-Wan was well aware of this fact as he gently steered Anakin into his flat. The younger man was nearing a deadweight, leaning so much into Obi-Wan as he was, but he couldn’t be faulted for that. Obi-Wan could vividly remember the arduous journey just from the lift to the flat after Qui-Gon had died.

And now Shmi was gone.

It wasn’t fair – any of it. Two bright, shining lights extinguished before their time.

At least Anakin had had a chance to say goodbye, Obi-Wan mused grimly as he led him to the couch. Though the cancer had torn through her with devastating rapidness, it had at least given mother and son enough time to properly say farewell, which was more than the universe had given himself and Qui-Gon.

Just over three months. Small mercies, indeed.

Anakin collapsed onto the couch gracelessly, seemingly barely aware of his surroundings. Obi-Wan reached up and gently tugged his suit jacket off, followed by his tie, with no protest. He doubted Anakin was even really registering anything at the moment.

The funeral had been small, just the two of them, a handful of friends, and some of the closer neighbors. The landlord had shown up as well – he and Shmi had had a vague ‘thing’ going on, as she had referred to it. Obi-Wan was pretty sure it was a bit more serious than that, at least to Clive, as he had overheard the man assuring Anakin not to worry about the next two months-worth of rent.

Obi-Wan slipped off his own jacket and tie, throwing them over the back of the couch with Anakin’s. He kicked off his dress shoes and laid a hand on Anakin’s knee.

“Ani?”

Dull blue eyes looked up in acknowledgement.

“Do you want those shoes off?”

He gave a slow nod, and Obi-Wan squeezed his knee comfortingly before dropping his hands to pull on the stiff laces.

The shoes were quickly removed and set to the side with his own pair. Obi-Wan’s hand found its way back to Anakin’s knee.

“I’ll be right back,” he promised, standing up and moving towards the kitchen.

The little plastic box of grocery store cookies looked so innocent, sitting on the counter like nothing at all was wrong with the world. The mere sight of them had Obi-Wan breathing deeply in an attempt to center himself.

Shmi had already been in the hospital for a month, and had been moved back home at her insistence a week earlier, when she had brought up the subject one day, when Anakin had been persuaded to leave her side long enough to shower.

_“I’m dying, Obi-Wan.”_

_“I know.”_

_“I need a favor from you. Well… two.”_

_“Anything.”_

_“First, take care of Ani for me?”_

_“Of course.”_

_“I mean it. Really take care of him – properly. I see the way you look at him.”_

_“I – I don’t –”_

_“Oh, stop it. I know, Obi-Wan. I really do. And I approve. You’re so good for him.”_

_“…thank you, Shmi.”_

_A warm smile, a thin hand on his own._

_“Secondly, when I die, make sure to have some lemon cookies on hand. They’ve always been his favorite, ever since he was old enough to have cookies. Can you do that for me?”_

_“I’m not much of a baker, but I’ll do my best.”_

_A thin laugh that threatened a cough. “Store-bought is fine. It’s the thought that counts.”_

The memory was painful, but it still made him smile.

He moved slowly, methodically, unwilling to risk dropping a cookie as he arranged them on a plate or spilling a drop as he poured two glasses of milk. He walked out with the glasses first, setting them on the coffee table before going back for the cookies.

When he set the plate down in front of Anakin, it finally garnered a real reaction. He blinked at the plate for a moment before looking up at Obi-Wan.

“What’s this?”

“Fulfilling a promise.”

The vague answer was apparently satisfying enough, as Anakin reached forward to take a cookie and nibbled it.

His eyes widened, tears gathering. “Lemon,” he whispered, looking up again.

Obi-Wan offered a sad, but warm smile. “She insisted.”

The tears rolled freely down Anakin’s cheeks as he took a proper bite and motioned for Obi-Wan to sit down next to him on the couch.

As soon as he complied, Anakin’s head was on his shoulder. “Thank you,” he mumbled.

Obi-Wan slung his arm around Anakin, holding him tightly. “It was nothing.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

That was true enough. He’d never had a more difficult trip to the grocery store before, and the small gesture meant the world to Anakin. There weren’t really any words left to say, though.

Instead, thinking back to when Shmi had made the request, and had all but given Obi-Wan her blessing, he turned his head slightly and pressed a gentle kiss to the top of Anakin’s head.

He wasn’t about to truly start anything, not now, not when Anakin was so fragile, but Anakin needed comfort tonight, and Obi-Wan would walk into traffic before denying him that.

He felt sure, in that moment, that wherever Shmi and Qui-Gon were right then, they were smiling at their two broken boys, because the grief was heavy and the present was dark, but he could tell that brighter days were ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm terribly sorry for the long wait, guys. Motivation is so hard to find some days. Sorry too for how short this chapter is, but I couldn't find a good way to flesh it out more without being even more painful.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope everyone enjoys this new installment of the Washed Clean 'verse! The chapters will be much shorter, around 1k words each, but there will be 12 chapters. 
> 
> No Rexsoka in this story, sorry to everyone who was looking forward to that, but Ahsoka, the Fetts, and other friends will feature more heavily in other stories in this 'verse, don't worry!


End file.
